


The Most Faithful

by Arithra



Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Arranged Marriage, F/M, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: Long ago someone had told him, that her wedding day was supposed to be one of the happiest days for a woman. Looking at the bride to be in front of him, Harold could not help but feel like upon agreeing to marry she was signing her death sentence.Bellatrix Black, soon to be Lestrange, was utterly beautiful in her white wedding dress with her long silky black hair piled atop her head.Or: Bellatrix is getting married, Harold observes.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/225602
Kudos: 77





	The Most Faithful

**Author's Note:**

> Still pre-Harry Potter canon,

Long ago someone had told him, that her wedding day was supposed to be one of the happiest days for a woman. Looking at the bride to be in front of him, Harold could not help but feel like upon agreeing to marry she was signing her death sentence.

Bellatrix Black, soon to be Lestrange, was utterly beautiful in her white wedding dress with her long silky black hair piled atop her head.

Her makeup was perfect – it made her cheeks glow slightly rosy as if she was blushing.

But it was only the makeup that was cheery. Her eyes told a completely different story.

When he had been young Harold had always met other people’s gaze head on, then came the revelation that there is such a magic as the mind art and even without him intending to, he had avoided looking another witch or wizard straight into the eye.

But years of relentless study had made him a master of occlumency, even Lord Voldemort was unable to gain information from his mind if Harold refused to allow him in.

So when he looked into the eyes of the woman he had first met as a grown woman, past her prime, driven by madness and utter devotion to a monster, then as a little girl who had sat on his lap and smiled a big toothy smile when he told her stories, he knew that she was not happy.

In a way she was signing her death sentence, because Rodolfus Lestrange expected his wife to be a death eater. Not that Bellatrix would not choose to be one on her own, but if her husband would have forbidden her from join, the old magics that were involved in the marriage vow, would enforce his will.

She would not die by the wand of Molly Weasley many years from now, after spending more than ten years in Azkaban.

But even without his knowledge of the future he would have been able to see, that her future was not a happy one. No woman should ever look so defeated on her wedding day. And Bellatrix looked just like that – a woman who had fought an uphill ballet and lost just before she could reach the peek and turn the tides in her favor.

“Uncle Harold.”

This time her smile was not as fake like the one she had plastered on her face to greet her visitor.

“Bellatrix.”

He gave her a warm smile and for a moment her eyes lit up, but then her features fell again.

“What are you thinking about, little girl?”

He used the term of endearment deliberately, trying to draw her out from behind her defenses and baiting her to bristle with indignation like she did when she had really been a little girl.

But those day were over, all he received was a tired, bitter smile.

With a sigh Harold leaned against the wall next to the door and sealed the entrance with as casual wave of his wand before erecting privacy wards.

“What are you doing, Uncle Harold?”

The man in question gave a small chuckle before leaving his spot against the wall and approaching the young woman. His eyes searched hers and she met his gaze head on.

“Why are you so very unhappy?”

For a moment the daughter of the most noble and ancient house of Black froze, before regaining her compose.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. It’s my wedding day, a day for celebration.”

“Indeed. But you are not celebrating Trixie.”

This endearment one much more special to her than the light teasing he used before, shattered the compose she had so desperately tried to scrap together completely. Her eyes widened and she wrenched her eyes away from his.

“I don’t want to marry him. He… he is a cruel man…”

Her voice broke and Harold could hear the tears in her voice. Knowing that Bellatrix Black would not call someone cruel if said person was simply callous or mean, he felt dread pool in his stomach.

He looked at her again. Standing in front of him in a beautiful dress with hunched shoulders and a lowered head. Carefully he enfolded her in his arms.

“Oh Trixie… Why didn’t you say so from the beginning?”

Bellatrix, with her head buried against his shoulder simply shrugged. Harold could almost feel the tears in his dress robes, ruining the expensive fabric, but he did not pull away, instead he held her tighter.

“The house of Black needs this alliance.”

Her voice sounded monotone and dull, as if she was repeating words that she herself had heard over and over again. Then she shivered as if trying to shake of an echo and the dread in his stomach was replaced with burning rage.

“Whom did you tell?”

The question was voiced in a tone much harsher and sharper that he had intended, but it did give him the desired result.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Mother.”

It was like his heart had stopped for a moment. He had expected her to say it, but at the same time he could not believe, that any mother would send her daughter into a marriage with a man that she knew would not treat her well.

Maybe it was due to the fact, that his own mother had been willing to give everything to keep him safe and that all the other mother figures in his life had been woman very much like Lily Potter in that regard.

He had still hoped that Druella shared Narcissa’s love for her children. That she like Narcissa would be willing to do anything to keep them safe and happy.

His hope seemed to have been futile however.

“Did you talk to Cygnus as well?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want me to stop the wedding?”

Immediately her head jerked up and she looked at him with tearful eyes. An odd mix between hope and fear and anger twisting her features into a grimace.

“I…”

She trailed off before she resolutely took a step away from him.

“No. I will see this through.”

Her voice was firm again, and if not for her slightly puffy eyes and the tear streaks on her cheek he would not have been able to tell that she had been crying just moments before.

“Why Trixie?”

She hesitated for a moment, clearly thinking about her answer. If it had not been for the way she determinedly straighter her shoulders und proudly struck out her chin, Harold would have expected her answer to be a lie. Instead he was forced to accept, that she was being painfully honest.

“There was only one man I ever wanted to marry. And I can never have him.”

He looked at her questioningly and she smiled. A kind and gentle and very soft smile, that looked foreign yet oddly fitting on her face.

“After all, you would never marry me.”

He looked at her and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes searched hers, but she did not look away, daring him to see the truth in her words.

“I see.”

With a sigh he ran his hand through his hair.

Bellatrix hummed, the smile never leaving her face.

“I have known that you would not marry me for a long time you know?”

She chuckled her eyes never leaving his.

“That did not stop me from falling in love with you though. And guess what?”

She laughed, and part of him dreaded her next words.

“So did Andromeda and Narcissa. I was simply the only one who did not get over her crush after a while. Andromeda said it was because I was into older men.”

Harold said nothing. He had been aware that the three girls had adored him when they had been little, but he had not known that Bellatrix crush had never faded away. Idly he mused if he should have followed Professor Dumbledore’s example and take occasional looks into the heads of the people surrounding him.

Bellatrix had not noticed that he had gotten lost in his thoughts.

“And Rodolfus is younger than me… next to all the other unpleasant characteristics. So while I really like you, love you even, I know that you would never marry me or love me the way I love you.”

Her smile was still the same without a trace of bitterness.

“You don’t intend to ever marry right? You are not the marrying kind of man.”

He hesitated for a moment before answering, but in the end he decided that the truth would serve best.

“A long time ago I wanted to marry, she was a beautiful girl with a feisty temper… I loved her dearly and I think we would have been happy together... but things never go the way I plan them. Times change and so do people.”

He chuckled and shrugged slightly.

“You say I’m not the kind of man who would marry… I suppose I no longer am... once it was my dearest wish. Even if I were to meet a witch that caught my attention like Gin did… There is no place in my life for a woman … for a family.”

Bellatrix was silent for a moment.

“I thought you preferred man?”

She sounded slightly unsure causing Harold to chuckle again.

“I like both really… Well maybe I do prefer wizards… or at least… him… over all others.”

They were silent for a moment and Bellatrix turned towards the mirror behind her and began to fix her make up.

“He was very special to you.”

It was not a question but a statement, but he answered anyway.

“He still is.”

He could see the witch’s lips twisting into a slight smile.

“Do I know him?”

Harold contemplated his answer.

“No. He is gone.”

And Tom Riddle was gone. He had died years ago. But…

“The one who holds my loyalty is the dark lord.”

The young woman turned to face him again, the she hesitated for a moment.

“Did the dark lord kill him? The man you love?”

“Yes and no.”

In a way he did and at the same time he was the very same man, even if he was twisted beyond recognition. Far past the point of no return.

Bellatrix looked at him questioningly.

“It is a long story Trixie. A very long story.”

She was silent for a moment before she nodded.

“A very long and very tragic story.”

This time it was his turn to nod.

“I always admired you Uncle Harold.”

He quirked and eyebrow in question. “Oh?”

She smiled a slightly watery smile.

“Oh yes, you are an ideal I always loved… And the kind of person I always wanted to be.”

Contemplating her words He grasped his wand again and lowered the wards he had erected.

“And what kind of person is that?”

This time she smiled a bright smile, that bore a striking resemblance to the little girl who had interrogated him over the dining table.

“Strong, confident… the kind of person that does not only inspires fear, but also awe and loyalty…”

She paused and walked past him towards the door leading out of the room and towards a life with a man she despised.

“And maybe above all… The dark Lords most faithful.”

She looked back over her shoulder at him and gave a quite smirk.

“Wish me luck Uncle Harold.”

He could only nod as she stepped out of the room and the door fell close behind her.

The words she had spoken echoed through his mind.

The Dark Lords most faithful.

Well, he supposed that he was, but it was not that fact that shocked him, but the memory of a scene he had once seen in Dumbledore’s Pensive.

Bellatrix Lestrange, chained to the chair in the middle of the courtroom, proudly calling herself the Dark Lords most faithful, even when faced with the threat of Azkaban.

For a moment Harold could not help but wonder if she had thought, will think… that it was what he would have done.

Closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose, his fingers brushing over his forehead where a scar used to be, he gave a mirthless chuckle.

“The Dark lords most faithful indeed...”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm cleaning up my old projects, so you can probably expect more of this in the next couple of days.


End file.
